Back on Track
by breannacarter
Summary: Story contains spanking of teen. Please don't read if offended. 17-year-old Jocelyn lives with her older brothers Sam and Dean. When they notice her going down the wrong path, they do what they can to help her get back on track.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is an AU with an added original little sister character. I haven't figured out much background info yet, just playing around with some ideas._

 _Spanking story, M/f, semi-consensual_

-x-x-x-x-

It sucks when you think you're home alone and you're not. Especially when you're doing something that you shouldn't be doing... like smoking weed.

My older brother, Sam, nearly flipped out when he pushed my door open and found a smoke-filled room and my glazy-eyed stare. "Jocelyn! What are you doing?!" he yelped.

I jumped at the loud noise and said, "dude, chill!" I set my pipe down and looked at him calmly. "It's okay, I promise."

Sam folded his arms. "You're getting high? Really? Come on, Joce, you're smarter than this!"

"It just takes the edge off," I promised. "And it hasn't had any negative effects on my schoolwork or anything... I'm still your straight-A'ed little sister."

"But it's illegal, and you're only seventeen."

"Seriously? You're going to pull the illegal card?" I was ready to list the illegal activities I knew about that the rest of my family (brothers included) had committed, but Sam stopped me.

"Okay. I can't say that I agree with this, but if you're doing it safely, and keeping up with your responsibilities, then I won't stop you." He then stepped closer, now towering over me. It was kind of scary. "But if your grades slip, or I find out you're being irresponsible with where you smoke, I'm going to tell Dean."

I wish I'd have listened to him... wish that I'd taken his warning... his many warnings actually. It wasn't until we'd had the "weed" conversation about four times that he finally threw his arms up and decided it was time to rat me out to our eldest brother.

"Noooooo… Please don't tell him. I'm going to do better, I promise!"

Sam shook his head, pointing at the fat red F on the packet of papers in his hand. "Jocelyn, this is the third test I've had to sign in a month! Your grades shouldn't be this low. It's because you're smoking too much."

My lower lip poked out in a pout. "Is not!" I said in a voice louder than anticipated. "The work is harder! It always gets hard this time of year."

Sam gave me a doubtful look and showed me the current failure I'd presented him with - a history test of almost pure memorization (that I'd forgotten about, haha, ironic, right?). "How hard can it be to memorize vocabulary about the American Revolution? Not to mention, you're brilliant at memorization usually."

I gave him an evil look, not wanting to admit that he was right. But I knew that admitting it would likely deter him from telling Dean, who would most definitely have a cure for my memorization issues... so I had to lose this battle. "You're right, Sam. I'll cut back on the smoking and work harder in school," I said, eyes filling up with tears and putting on my best puppy face.

His eyes narrowed. "No, you're not pulling that one on me, Jocelyn Michelle."

I blinked. "What?"

"You know that you'll cut back just enough to get me off your back and in a couple of weeks you'll hand me another exam that you failed."

I said nothing.

"It's time that you learn how to be responsible and accept the consequences for your actions," he continued.

I rolled my eyes. "But I _did_ accept the consequences! I got a shitty grade, isn't that enough?"

"And what are the consequences of getting a bad grade?"

"I don't know, I have you yelling at me forever about it?" I snapped.

Sam nodded. "You know that if you don't get good grades, you won't go to college, right?"

I shrugged.

"And don't you want to go off to college? I mean, if you don't, that's fine, but if you want to go to NYU or Berkley, you'll have to get a scholarship because we don't have the money to pay for that."

I slumped down in my bed, picking at my fingernail. "Whatever, Sam," I muttered. "I'll do fine. I told you. I'll cut back on smoking and study more."

He sighed. "Last chance," he said in a soft voice, lifting my chin so that I was looking him in the eyes. "Cut this out, Jocelyn. It's not worth it." He handed me the signed exam and walked out.

I was still shivering when my door closed. It was partly because I'd left my window cracked and the November chill had crept through my room. But it was also because I hated it when Sam got that serious. He was always so happy and playful... I didn't like it when he gave me those looks and spoke to me in that tone of voice. It made me sad.

I really did try to study more after that, I promise. I opened my history book every now and then and even did literature homework on occasion. I cut my smoking sorta in half. And overall, I made an improvement. I did amazing on my Latin vocab quiz, somewhat well on a physics quiz, but then totally bombed this math test. I'd planned on studying for it but somehow kept getting distracted... and the next morning when I saw the mixture of numbers and letters and advanced formulas I realized I'd stayed up almost all night for nothing, was still a little stoned, and was definitely going to fail the test. I wanted to cry.

But not as much as I wanted to cry the following week when the exam was returned, a 61% F. Attached was the "orange slip"... the policy was that if a student scores below a 70% on any major exam, the parent or guardian must sign the "orange slip." The loophole was that teachers determined what they would consider a major exam... usually it would be a midterm or final, but some teachers, like my math teacher, thought anything that wasn't a quiz was a major exam, so of course, I had to take another failure home with me.

Sam was going to kill me. Or worse... Dean was going to kill me.

I walked home with nervous anticipation. I knew the damn exam was in my backpack... and I knew that someone had to sign it. I even thought about signing it myself, but am terrible at forging and not really into getting myself into a bigger mess than I already was. I'd have to come clean to my brothers. I would have to accept the consequences, as Sam always said. Even if they were painful.

So I tried to pump myself up. I chanted to myself inside my head... Come on Jocelyn! You can do it! But when I got home and Sam was sitting with his laptop in front of the tv, I froze. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't let him know that I'd done so badly on a stupid test when we'd just talked about it and he was expecting me to improve. It would let him down so much. I knew I had to do it, but it was so hard.

And I let him distract me, talking about meaningless things, like how much we hate Dr. Phil, and what we want to eat for Thanksgiving. When Dean came home, it gave me an excuse to shower and change into my pjs, then open my backpack to attempt homework. That was when I was reminded of what awaited me inside. That stupid test. Ugh. I took it out and set it on my bedside table. I'd get Sam to sign it later.

I flipped on my tv to watch the Bad Girls Club and was giggling at their stupidity when Sam knocked on my door. Without thinking, I yelled, "Come in!"

He came in and I ignored him, still laughing at the tv until he said something that made my heart stop: "What's this?"

Shit. He'd seen the exam and I totally wasn't prepared. "Oh, uhm, I was going to bring that down to you later," I said hurriedly as he looked at me, an undoubtedly pissed off expression on his face. "I, it's that, I, um," I stammered. "I studied for that test. I dunno, it was just... uh... really... hard." Genius.

Sam said nothing, just shook his head and turned away, taking my test with him.

"No, wait, Sam, please!" I said, a tear slipping down my cheek. He didn't answer me, just continued down the stairs.

I took a deep breath in and stood up. I should at least hear what he was saying about me...

I inched towards the top of the staircase and sat at the top stair, listening to my brothers' voices. It was hard to make out all of what they were saying, but Sam was talking a lot, and Dean only responded with the occasional "mmhmm" and "mmm." I held my head in my hands, silently praying to get out of this or to wake up from this nightmare, or something...

"Jocelyn!" I heard Dean call.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stood up, taking another deep breath to steady my pounding heart. I took the stairs as slowly as possible, finally descending into the living room where two sets of eyes stared at me coldly. "I'm really, really sorry," I began.

They were both quiet for a moment, until finally, Dean said, "have you been failing a lot of tests lately?"

I bit my lower lip. "Yes," I murmured.

"And smoking weed?"

I nodded, now chewing on my fingernail and staring at the floor.

"Yes or no!?" he asked, a little louder and scarier.

"Yes..."

"And Sam has talked to you about this already?"

I nodded again. "Yes," I said in almost a whisper.

"Then it's time for you and me to discuss your bad habits and irresponsibility." He paused and my heart raced faster, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. "Go to your room, television off, thinking about the spanking I'm about to give you," he told me. "And thinking about why you're being punished, and how you're going to avoid it in the future."

I nodded, still chewing on my fingernail, and climbing the stairs. A few tears managed to escape as I turned the tv off and sat on my bed, head in hands, doing exactly as my brother had ordered - thinking about my impending punishment. Those moments are the worst... when you know what's coming, you just don't know in which moment. You notice every noise, wondering if that's him climbing the stairs, if he's nearing your door, about to order you to bare yourself from the waist down, so that he can inflict fire upon your backside until you're kicking and crying and begging for him to stop. Every creek in the house sounds like him taking those dreadful steps, and when you finally notice that he is, indeed, taking those steps, the tears come almost instantly.

Dean didn't knock, just pushed the door open. "You and I need to have a long discussion, little sister," he said. He came inside and closed the door behind him. "Stand up," he ordered.

Sniffling, I pushed myself up from the bed, trying my hardest not to whine because he hated that. Normally I didn't care if I crossed anyone, but it was best not to mess with my eldest brother when he was upset - his spankings were no joke! And any time I earned one, it was a painful reminder that I was still a kid. "I'm realllllyy sorry..."

"Pants and panties off."

A chill ran down my spine at his flat tone and stern expression. "I promise I'll stop smoking and do better in school…"

Eyebrows raised, he repeated a little firmer: "Pants and panties off, _now._ "

I gulped and did as told, pushing my purple penguin pjs to the floor and my panties with them. A cool breeze passed over my bare thighs, reminding me of my vulnerable state. Ughhh… it had to be the most embarrassing thing ever, still getting such childish punishments. Couldn't he just ground me like a normal person?

Dean sat on my bed and grabbed my left wrist, tugging me over his knee. "I'm disappointed in your behavior, Young Lady," he said seriously. "I never expected you to act this irresponsibly with your school work. You've always been the good student in the family... the one with dreams. I'm disappointed that you'd sacrifice those dreams like you've been doing lately."

Ouch. His words made my stomach twist into knots. I hated that he was right.

"Not to mention you're too young to smoke weed, you're still just a kid."

"I'm not a kid!" I demanded.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you about to get a bare bottom spanking?"

I didn't have an answer for that, so he threw a leg over my feet to prevent me from kicking, and circled his arm around my waist.

"And I'm sure there's more that Sam is hiding from me, so you better thank him for that later."

The last thing I wanted to do was thank my stupid tattletail brother, but Dean didn't give me much time to think about it, his hand now raining down on my unprotected bottom. I clenched onto my bedsheets, biting my lower lip hard so that I wouldn't cry out so much. Each swat was intense and hurt much more than I'd remembered from my last spanking.

After only a dozen or so smacks, my attempts to keep quiet failed. "Owwwww, Dean… that hurts!"

"It's supposed to hurt."

I groaned at the cliched response, squeezing my eyes shut in hopes that it would help ease the pain (it didn't). Then he started swatting my sit spots, and I squealed like a banshee and kicked as much as possible with his tight grip on me.

The lecture continued. "If you want to smoke weed, wait till you're old enough. Or at least be responsible enough to not get caught," Dean scolded, increasing the speed and intensity of the smacks.

My bottom felt like it was on fire and I tried to take it like a woman, but between the pain and the disappointment that he had in me, and the disappointment I had in myself, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold in my tears. "Okayyyy, I get it!"

He didn't let up. "Tomorrow I want you to find out all of your grades, and come up with a plan to make sure they're up to par with your abilities, understood?"

"Yessssssss," I howled, hand threatening to reach back and try to stop this assault on my backside.

At least the scolding finally stopped, and after what felt like an eternity, the spanks stopped and Dean lifted me up. My hands flew to my throbbing bottom to rub out some of the sting.

He stood and put his hands on my shoulders. "Jocelyn, we're going to start to have more structure around here with you. You'll have a bedtime every night, you'll spend the afternoons studying rather than watching tv, and the smoking is going to cease. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said weakly.

I don't know if he wasn't convinced or if he'd already planned to spank me more, but next thing I knew, he was putting my pillows in the middle of my bed and telling me to lean over them. Then he unbuckled his belt and started to take it off and that's when the real tears finally came.

"Noooo, pleaseeee, don't use that," I begged.

He didn't say anything, didn't argue with me, just waited patiently. I knew I probably did deserve the belting, as much as I hated it, but that didn't help me submit any easier. My legs felt so much like jelly that it took me a few minutes to find the willpower to obey his request and lay over the pillows.

"I'm really sorry, Dean," I whined, burying my face in my hands and bracing myself for the first lash.

He raised the folded belt into the air then crashed it down in the center of my bottom. The leather bit into my skin with this unimaginable sting that had me immediately crying like a little girl. I wasn't given any time to regain my composure when he brought it down again, this time on my sit spots.

"Owwwww Deannnnn please no moreeee!" I howled, reaching back in a pathetic attempt to block him.

"Move your hand," he ordered.

Tears streaming down my face, I put myself back into position.

"I want you to remember this next time you think about lighting up a joint, or whatever it is you kids do nowadays."

I heard the jingle of the belt buckle then the _CRACK_! of leather-meeting-skin. My howling was cut off by another lash, and then another right across my sit spots.

"And remember this when you're sitting in class tomorrow." Two more to my sit spots. "I really want you to do your best, Jocelyn, and I know this isn't your best."

"I'll do my bestttttt!" I promised.

"You better." He landed four more swats in a row, hard and fast. "Or you know what will happen."

By this point, I was a sobbing mess, in too much pain to even fight much anymore. And the scolding had me even more subdued.

"I'm going to help you get back on track." The belt came down a final time on my sit spots, then I heard him putting it back on, giving me a minute to regain my composure.

Face buried into my tear-filled hands, I allowed myself some time to cry everything out. I hated crying - hated the the way it makes my head pound and throat sore and nose all stuffy. But Dean's spankings often left me no choice, so I may as well take advantage of it while I could. So I allowed my mind to wander to places I often avoided… The dark places.

When my crying didn't die down after a couple of minutes, Dean sat at my side and pushed my hair out of my face. "You okay?"

I nodded, trying to breathe and calm myself. Ugh, it didn't help that my butt was burning. "I don't like it when you spank me."

"So do your work. Stop slacking and being a junkie."

I shot him a glare. "I'm not a junkie!"

Dean gave a slight smirk and ruffled my hair. "Get your homework finished, kiddo, then to bed. No tv tonight." He gave me a kiss on the forehead and finally gave me some privacy. What a relief.

My first ten minutes of alone time was spent trying to rub some of the sting out from the damn spanking, then I retrieved my pajamas and went to wash my face. I couldn't help but peek at the damage in the mirror. My butt was crimson and puffy all over, still tender to touch. Ouch! Sitting in class tomorrow would not be fun!

When I exited the bathroom, Sam was climbing the stairs. I blushed thinking about how he must have heard everything, then bolted towards my room hoping to escape conversation.

"Joce, wait! Here's your signed test."

Okay, I guess I'd need that. "Thanks," I mumbled and snatched the paper from him, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Hey… I'm sorry that I ratted you out, but…"

"I know, I deserved it."

"And you asked for it, remember?"

Yup… stupid me.

He gave me a side-hug and patted me on the shoulder. "Goodnight, sis. And good luck sitting!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Spanking story, M/_ f _, non-consensual_

 _ **A/N** : This is an AU with an added original little sister character. I don't _really _like this story anymore, so there will only be one more chapter after this._

 _ **Summary** : Jocelyn _decides to visit _a friend and drives home in the middle of the night while high. Sam's up waiting. Oops!_

-x-x-x-x-

It seemed like a good idea when I thought of it. Usually that's how ideas go, right? Well, I had been smoking it up in my friend's apartment munching on marshmallow popcorn when the idea crossed my mind. I hadn't seen my friend, Chase, in a long time. He only lived about six hours away, a short drive through the middle of nowhere in the mountains, and I could spend the evening with him, getting stoned and doing whatever other things teenagers like doing when they have some alone time. Since Dean was out of town, that meant I could do whatever I wanted. Sam was busy with work lately and probably wouldn't even notice when I got home. That was the plan, anyway.

When I got on the road I quickly realized how bad of an idea this was. After all, it was already afternoon, I wouldn't make it to see him until about 7pm, and then I'd have to drive another 6 hours home at some point. Chase lived in a dorm, so I couldn't just crash at his house, and I really needed to be home before Sam woke up the next morning.

But did I turn around? No. I kept driving, taking in the scenery, cursing the radio when there wasn't a station within reach. It was actually quite amazing and liberating for a while.

I had a good time with Chase. We smoked a few bowls, fooled around, watched tv and ordered a pizza. I could definitely get used to college life.

But alas, around 10pm, I realized that I must head home.

"Awww, come on, Jocelyn, just stay here for the night. It's late and the weather isn't so great through the mountains at night," Chase told me.

"Nah, I'll be fine."

"Really, you can stay here."

I contemplated it for a moment. In my stoned state, staying there seemed great. But realistically, it couldn't be done. A - I could not share such a small bed with another person, B - If I didn't get home by the time Sam got up, I would be up for answering questions that I'd much rather avoid, and C - I really didn't want to stay with Chase… it would be weird. "Thanks, for real, but I should head out. My brother's expecting me."

"Just be careful," he said, standing up and opening the door for me.

He walked me to my car, making me promise another 10 times that I'd be careful before finally giving me a hug and waving me off.

Thankful to be alone again, and to have some extra weed for the ride, I headed through the place where they invented the term the middle of nowhere. There was literally nothing on the road. All I could see were stars and the occasional gas station. I put in a happy cd and gazed at the stars mostly, trying to pay attention to the highway. Not that many people were on it anyway at this time of night.

Around 2am, three hours from home, I had to stop for gas. I was super hungry and by this time had run out of munchies, so I stocked up on food at the station and rolled a joint in the parking lot. I smoked as I got back on the highway, now tired of my cd and listening to talk radio. It was the British news station and for some reason I found their accents oddly satisfying. And anytime they asked each other a question, I tried to answer in a British accent. Hey, it kept me entertained!

I was so tired by the time I got back into town that I was just ready to pass out. It was refreshing to see traffic, but slightly scary to see that the sky was getting brighter. I couldn't believe that I'd been out all night. I was so delirious and somewhat stoned… it was ridiculous.

I stumbled in up the stairs to my porch around 5:30am. It took me a minute to find my key, and another minute to get it in the lock, but eventually I pried the door open. I eased it shut behind me, only to realize that Sam was awake, sitting on the sofa.

"Hey," I said nonchalantly, like there was nothing wrong with the fact that I was coming home at 5:30 in the morning.

Sam raised his eyebrows, setting his laptop aside. "You're home late?"

I shrugged and tried to hurry past him up the stairs, because if I could just make it to my room, I would be safe.

"Wait, not so fast," he said, standing up and meeting me near the stairs. "Where have you been?"

"Out," I answered. He looked at me, waiting for a longer explanation, and I said, "at a friend's house. But look, I'm tired, it's really late, can we just talk about this tomorrow?"

He was kind of taken aback by the amount of snappiness in my voice, and softened up a little. "What have you been doing?" he asked curiously, in a voice that made my stomach churn.

"N-nothing," I stammered. "Just hanging out. I thought I could, since Dean was gone. You said I could go out."

"Something tells me there's more to this than you were 'just hanging out'," he said. He paused for a moment, and when I didn't speak he asked: "Have you been smoking?"

I stopped breathing for a second. "No," I said. Too late… I'd taken that pause… the one that gave it away I was lying.

He peered down at me and I tried not to chew on my lip and give away the fact that I was guilty. "Jocelyn… I don't like this…" he said as if warning me that he was about to get really angry if I didn't do something to make this sound any better.

"Okay, I did smoke a little tonight, but really, I'm fine right now, I was fine to drive, it wasn't very far, but I'm really tired, can I please go to sleep?"

"Wait… you smoked tonight, and then you drove?"

"No, not like, um, that…" I said. "I just hung out with my friends, and later when I wasn't high anymore, then I drove home?"

Sam folded his arms. "Where were you? And why on earth were you leaving there so late?"

"Well, I was at a friend's house, and we, um, kind of lost track of time."

He looked at me, waiting for an elaboration.

"What? Do you want details on what we were doing?" I asked.

"No, I want you to cut the bullshit and tell me what happened."

I squirmed slightly, seeing the serious expression on his face. It gave me the chills. "Sammy, please don't be mad," I told him, tears forming in my eyes. "Please…" I begged.

He only waited.

So I told him. "I was with Chase…"

"What, was he in town or something?"

"Or something…"

"What?"

"...What?"

"Wait, you went to see Chase?!"

I didn't say anything, kind of just stared at the couch for a minute until it hit him what I was saying.

"Six hours away?! Are you crazy? And you drove like this?!"

Before I could respond, he grabbed ahold of my ear, dragging me toward the sofa. "Wait, no, Sam, ow, just a sec, wait, stop, I'm sorry!" I said. "I can explain!"

He sat down and pulled me over his lap.

"Sam, please."

"Go ahead," he answered, resting his arms on my back. "What would you like to explain?"

"I'm really, really sorry. I feel awful about it, but I couldn't stay up there with him, and I'd already smoked when I realized it, and I wasn't that impaired, I was driving fine."

"Are you kidding me? Do you even realize how dangerous that is, Jocelyn?"

"Yes, I know, and I'm really sorry." I started sniffling, half crying as if to prove my point. "I won't do it again, I promise," I said, looking back at him now with a super innocent look on my face.

"You could have killed yourself! Or someone else!" He landed a hard smack to my bottom, and then another, and then: "This is the most irresponsible thing that I have ever heard of!" followed by a few more hard smacks.

"Owwww! Sam!" I cried, kicking slightly. "I'm really sorry!" I tried to move my hand back to block the smacks, but he caught it before I could.

"I cannot believe this," was all he could say, continuing the spanking. He hit me hard and semi-fast, certainly causing my bum to turn red very quickly. And while it wasn't nearly as hard as the spankings Dean gave me, it felt as bad and I was crying like crazy.

"Sam, I'm sorry," I repeated.

He concentrated on my sit spots for a few swats, and then gave a final set of hard smacks, before letting me up. My hands immediately few to my bottom, trying to rub out the sting.

I thought that Sam was going to give me a hug and send me to bed, but again, I was surprised. You know how I mentioned before that my brothers don't get mad about much, but when they get mad, they get MAD? Yeah… well, Sam was MAD. He grabbed my ear again and hauled me up the stairs, to the bathroom, turning the water on super cold. "Get in."

By this time I was not only shocked, but slightly scared. I don't know if I'd ever seen Sam this upset with me before. "But… Sam…" I began, crying again. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are, and I'm sorry, too. You're my little sister, and you did something really stupid tonight. I'm going to punish you properly to ensure that this behavior does not continue." I'd never heard this side of him before. It was worrying me so much. "Shower," he said. I heard his voice shake slightly, and I think that's what broke me down. He was really that worried about me… I didn't want to be in trouble, but what the hell had I done?

He allowed me some privacy to shower, and I turned the water to be warmer because a cold shower was definitely not happening. The problem was that after a good smoke, and a hot shower, sleep was supposed to follow. And I was sure that Sam had something else planned.

And oh, did he. When I emerged from the shower fresh and clean and less stoned, he stood outside his door, belt in hand. This didn't look too good.

"Come on," he said firmly.

I, still in my towel, started to panic. "Can't I dry off and put my pjs on first?"

He didn't answer me, just took my ear again and brought me into my room. I noticed that my jacket was on my bed and the bag of weed on top of it. Shit.

"Care to explain this?" he asked.

"I forgot I had it."

"So let me get this straight," he began, pacing behind me. "You drove to see Chase, got high with him, then drove back home, until nearly six in the morning, through the mountainous countryside where anything could've happened to you while you were stoned and with a bag of weed in your pocket? It's a miracle that you're still alive and out of jail! It's a miracle that you made it home in one piece!" I hung my head, feeling bad for what I'd done. "Is there anything else I should know about?"

I shook my head, sniffling, the tears now genuine.

"You are going to get the spanking of your life, little sister," he told me. "And you know you deserve it, don't you?"

I couldn't answer.

"Well? Are you going to say that you don't deserve it?"

"No…" I muttered. "I guess I do…"

"You guess," he repeated, chuckling slightly. I heard the belt buckle jingle a bit, sending a shiver up my spine. "You'll be lucky if I don't tell Dean about this," he said in an admonishing tone. "Over the bed," he commanded.

"Sam, please, I'm really sorry…" I felt a bead of water slip down my neck, and the realization of how much a spanking would suck on wet skin finally hit me. Luckily I'd mostly dried myself off… but still…

Instead of arguing with me, Sam just gave me a slight push, until I finally got into the position he wanted.

I began crying, burying my face in my hands. "I'm sorryyyyy," I sobbed.

He lifted my towel up to expose my bottom. By now the hand spanking he'd given me had worn off, something I expected that the belt spanking wouldn't do for a while. Thinking about that just made me cry more.

"This immature, irresponsible behavior will not continue, Jocelyn," Sam scolded, now bringing down the belt from hell onto my bottom. I cried out and squirmed, only to be greeted by another smack, equally hard, and surely leaving a bright red stripe on my backside. I kept my hands in front of me best as I could, kicking slightly, trying to endure the next lashes.

"I'll be goooooooood, I promiseeee!" I howled.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Young Lady," he said, pausing for a moment to move around to the other side of me. I cried harder. "You know better than this." He then brought the belt down again and again, on both my bottom and sit spots. The sound of leather-meeting-skin echoed through the house as the sun began to rise. I felt my bottom warming up, too, and knew that it must be a bright shade of red by this time. It was aching so much, I didn't know how much more I could take.

"Are you learning your lesson?" he asked.

"Yessssss!" I cried.

"What have you learned?"

"That I shouldn't smoke or drive after smoking or be irresponsible or unsafe," I said, sniffling, and crying more. My eyes were red and puffy, and I tried to wipe the tears away but they kept coming.

He gave me another couple of lashes with the belt, causing me to cry out again.

"Jocelyn, I care about you a lot," he added. "It hurts me to see you put yourself in danger like that. I worry about you."

I nodded, still crying, feeling awful for everything that I'd done, and the consequences of those actions. He finally set the belt down and sat next to me on the bed. He lifted me up slightly and I looked at him to see him back to normal now. Softer, more smile-y, more like the brother I knew. I let him hug me and I promised to behave from now on.

"Will you read me a bedtime story?" I asked him suddenly through my tears.

He looked down at me.

"Remember how you used to read me bedtime stories all the time when we were kids? You loved reading, and Mom thought it would help you practice, and then you just kept on doing it…" I almost started crying again, remembering him reading me stories anytime I needed comfort… if I was scared during a thunderstorm, anxious about school, or sad about my mother's death. And I wanted that same comfort tonight.

"Of course I will," he said. "Get your pajamas on, I'll go turn off the lights downstairs and lock up then come read to you."

I smiled and slipped on some tinkerbell pjs… I was feeling like a kid all of a sudden. As I walked to my bookshelf to get the book I wanted him to read out of, I passed my mirror. Curiosity got the best of me and I had to see the damage done. I pulled down my pajama pants a bit to see my red bum. My mouth dropped in awe… he had really given it to me good. It looked like I wouldn't forget this one for a while.

I pulled my pants back up and grabbed the book, flopping onto my bed - on my tummy of course. Shortly thereafter, Sam came in and scooted me over, sitting next to me as he read my favorite story.

"Once upon a time…"

I yawned and before I knew it, drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter3

_Spanking story, M/_ f _, non-consensual_

 _ **A/N:** This is an AU with an added original little sister character. This is the last chapter of the story._

 _ **Summary:** Dean's home and Jocelyn must accept more consequences._

-x-x-x-x-

I never got the chance to beg Sam not to tell Dean what I'd done. And by the time I realized it, it was too late: Dean was in my room, arms folded, gazing down at me in a curious manner.

"Late night?" he asked.

I peered at my clock to see that it was two in the afternoon. "Yeah," I muttered, lying back down, heart pounding but trying to stay calm.

"Is there something you need to tell me?"

"What?" I asked, playing innocent. I wasn't sure what Sam had told him, and wasn't going to admit to anything that Dean didn't know about already.

He folded his arms. "Sam and I were talking downstairs, and I believe you have something to tell me."

He walked closer to me, towering over with this look that made me chew on my fingernail. Bad habit of mine. "Oh yeah? You were talking to Sam?"

Dean nodded. "Let's hear it, Jocelyn. I want to hear about your night last night, and I want to know EVERYTHING."

I took a deep breath in and sat up, leaning back against the wall. "Please don't be mad," I begged. I was still chewing on my fingernail. Dean was going to kill me…

"Tell me," he said firmly. Suddenly I felt awful. I felt this pang of guilt and fear. It was bad that I'd driven under the influence, and it was really bad when Sam caught me, but now Dean was here and he'd caught me and… he was super going to kill me. "I'm waiting," he said, breaking off my thoughts, a displeased look spread across his face.

"I, um, didn't get home till really late," I said in a soft voice. Dean didn't speak, just stared at me, waiting for me to continue. "I stayed out with my friends… smoking…" He still said nothing. "And then I drove home," I continued, looking away and mumbling, "six hours." My heart stopped as I was unsure of what would happen next. I didn't really want to know what was going to happen next. I wished time would just stop, right there… or that I'd wake up from this nightmare of Dean finding out what I'd done because he was so going to kill me. "I'm sorry," I said when I regained my breath.

He stooped down to my level, turning my chin so I was looking him in the eyes. "Have you lost your mind?" he asked. He let go of my chin and paced for a moment. "What were you thinking?! Driving around, by yourself, that far, at night, while HIGH?! Are you crazy? Do you even know what could have happened?" he asked.

"I know… I'm sorry… Sam already…"

"Your car is mine, for a month," he said in a stern voice.

"But Dean, I…"

"You could have died Jocelyn! You could have had an accident… you could have hurt someone else… you could be in jail!"

I pulled my knees to my chest, trying not to cry. I hated seeing Dean so mad. I hated that I made him so upset. I knew I deserved it, though.

"You're going to screw up the rest of your life? For what, marijuana? A pot-head friend who lives six hours away?" He shook his head. "I'm so disappointed, Jocelyn. You know better than this." He stopped pacing finally and folded his arms, looking down at me. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It was really stupid… I'm sorry… I… really learned my lesson. I won't do it again," I said, wiping a tear away and burying my face into my knees to keep the rest from falling.

"That's what you say every time, Jocelyn."

I didn't say anything, stuck with this knot in my throat, tears threatening to spill at any time. I sniffled, wishing he'd just forgive me and get this over with. But I knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Driving under the influence… putting yourself in danger, putting others in danger. I think you've earned a good spanking," he said finally.

I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "Noooooooo, Dean, pleaseeeeee, Sam already spanked me and… I learned my lessonnnn!" I cried. Sometimes I can be a bit of a drama queen.

"Get the hairbrush," he answered.

"Noooo pleaseeee you don't understand Dean I'm reallllllly sorryyyy!"

He gave me a look that made me want to obey but I just couldn't. My bottom still ached from earlier that day and now Dean wanted to give me another? With the hairbrush?! The hairbrush! The wooden one that was basically reserved for my worst behaviors ever? Thinking about it sent shivers down my spine.

"Save your tears," he said. "Hairbrush now!"

The combination of "the look" and the way he enunciated "now" made me hop off the bed and amble towards my dresser, whining the whole way. It was in my top drawer, with my regular hair products, only it'd never really been used to brush my hair. But Dean insisted I keep it in my room, I guess as a reminder. I had planned to throw it out one day… I really should stop procrastinating so much on that.

I turned around with the hairbrush in my hand and Dean was already seated on my bed, rolling his sleeves up. This looked really bad.

"Dean, I'm really really sorry," I attempted one final time.

He looked up at me and just motioned me forward. I obeyed, sorta. My brain told my feet to step forward but I don't think they really moved much. I inched my way towards him as slowly as possible until he grabbed my wrist, bringing me to his side.

"I want you to think about what you did while I'm giving you this spanking. I want you to think of all the people you could have hurt, and all the people you have hurt by doing this."

I didn't really understand what he meant, but didn't think much about it because immediately afterwards he was baring my bottom, then helped me over his knee. I started crying again, especially when I felt his leg locking mine in, which meant no kicking, which meant this was going to suck so much. It's like… if you went to the dentist and they decided to strap you down. Wouldn't you be freaking out? Yeah, that's what I was doing.

"I'm sorry," I said pathetically, not knowing what else to say.

He didn't answer me, just crashed the hairbrush down on my sore bottom. I yelped super loud and tried to reach back, but Dean caught my hand, then gave me a few more hard swats.

"Oooowwwwww, please Dean it hurtssss!" I howled.

"Good," he said softly, swatting my sit spots and upper thighs before moving back to my bum with what felt like full force.

Don't think I took this quietly. I was squirming and kicking and trying to block and crying and begging like you wouldn't believe. I promised everything under the moon until he stopped for a moment, letting my bottom get a rest. It was throbbing so much. And my sit spots. Ouchies.

"You know, Jocelyn, I'm tired of you acting like a little kid. You're seventeen years old. You're almost an adult. I trust you to drive, I trust you to be here the weekend with just Sam, I trust you to act responsible, and this is what happens? You turn into the most immature and irresponsible young woman I've ever met. And now you're fighting this punishment like you think you don't deserve it? Let me tell you one thing, Young Lady, you deserve every swat I give you with this hairbrush. Your older brothers care about you and are trying to do the best they can. They lost their mother, too, and they could've lost their little sister last night."

Ouchhh… I think that hurt more than the spanking did. I realized what he meant about having hurt someone by my actions. I guess Sam really had been worried about me last night. I sort of forget sometimes that my brothers have feelings, too. Dammit.

"I love you, Jocelyn, and I don't want to lose you." He held my wrist tight again and delivered some more swats. I still cried out, but tried to keep my squirming as little as possible. "You're the only little sister I have, and I'm going to see to it that you accomplish your dreams, even if it means that you have to be in this position much more often than we'd like." He peppered my sit spots, concentrating on the right side first, then the left. "I don't want to EVER hear of you putting your life in danger like that again, Young Lady, do you understand me?"

"Yesssss!" I cried.

"No midnight trips to the middle of nowhere and no driving while high!"

"I p-promiseeeee!" I said, now sobbing from both the guilty feelings and the aching sting in my backside.

He finished up with a few super hard swats to the middle of my bottom, then lifted me up. I was a sobbing mess, trying to wipe the tears and hair out of my face, but I was crying so much that I just made my shirt wet and my hair messy. Dean walked me to the corner and stood me there so that I could compose myself while he sat on my bed I guess. I sniffled and cried and pushed my hair out of my eyes and sniffled some more.

Eventually my sobs had died down and I stared at the wall, leaning my head against it. I started thinking about what Dean had said and how he probably felt when he found out what I'd done. And then I thought about Sam, and the look he had given me the night before… and the way he'd tucked me in like I was his baby sister again… and the fact that I'd worried him so much. Dean was the oldest, he'd always been the strong one that took care of everyone. Sam was more sensitive, and I was closer to him. It hurt ten times more that I'd kept him so worried.

Dean cut off my thoughts once again by calling me over to him. He returned my pajama pants to me (they had fallen off during all of the squirming) and asked me to sit next to him. I was so not up for sitting, but figured he probably didn't care much.

He gave me a hug. "Jocelyn, I am serious… I do care about you and I only want what's best. Please don't do something so stupid ever again."

I almost started crying again! I hugged him back and said, "I won't."

He let go and looked at me. "Good." He handed me the hairbrush to put back in its drawer. "There are some bagels and muffins downstairs leftover from today's meeting, if you want any," he said, getting up. He walked towards the door, turning around to look at me once again before leaving. "And hey, if you ever need to talk, you know you can talk to me, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, Dean." I smiled. "Thanks."

He smiled back and walked out, leaving me there sitting on my sore bottom with the dreadful hairbrush in my hand. First line of business, put it back up. Second, check out how awful my bottom looked!

I tugged my pjs down a bit in the back and caught the best glimpse I could. Ouch… it was dark red all over, even down past my sit spots. My poor bum :(

I nearly jumped out of my pajamas when I heard a tap on my door and Sam poked his head in. Embarrassed, I pulled up my pj pants and acted like I had been doing nothing. "Hey," I said.

"You okay?" he wanted to know.

"My ass hurts," I answered, pouting playfully.

He gave me a hug and said, "you deserve it."

"I know," I said softly. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"You're forgiven little sister. Just don't ever do it again!"

"Sammy, you worry about everything! There's no way possible I could never worry you again."

"I meant driving while high!"

"I know, I was just kidding. Sheesh, loosen up a bit."

He smacked my bum for smarting off to him then said, "I'm glad you're okay."

Yeah, I'm glad I was okay too :)


End file.
